


Say It

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M, Light Dom/sub, Rough Sex, Smut, Swearing, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 09:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17057528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: Anonymous asked: I am in love with your blog having just discovered it. OMG, you write Loki so well it's like hehe sooo good! :D I was wondering if you would consider doing some Magneto x reader stuff I'm sure he's got some naughty stories that are just dying to come out.





	Say It

## An Erik Lehnsherr x Reader Request Fic

* * *

The cold and heavy weight of the metal wrapped around your wrists dragged you back and sealed you to the steel support beam before you could even offer a token protest. “Erik! What… what are you…?”

“Do you know what it does to me?” he asked, gliding slowly out of the shadows.

“What?” you asked, barely a whisper, taking in the vision he was in his tux, tie hanging loose, top buttons were undone on his shirt, a glass of dark amber liquid clenched in his fist. Ice rattled in the glass when he lifted it to his lips.

His eyes, more silver than blue in the low light, watched you intently. They drifted over the heaving form of your breasts, down the length of your strapless red dress, seemed to physically caress the bare skin of your legs before settling on your shoes and working their way back up. By the time they reached your face, locked in with your eyes, you’d started to breathe a little faster at how just the look and that slow sip had aroused you.

“To go on these missions where you dress like that, and I am forced to watch as you flirt and fawn your way through every man to get the information we need? Do you know what it makes me feel to stand aside as they paw at you? As they dare to touch what is _mine_?”

The harshness of the word made you gasp, and he moved closer, prowling across the gleaming marble floor of your penthouse apartment with all its streamlined surfaces and sleek floors, metal beams and industrial accents. The walls of windows showed the dark night and sparkling lights of the city beyond, but all you could focus on was Erik as he stalked you, body taut with the tension of keeping his hands to himself all night.

He lifted his glass again. The crystal had started to sweat thanks to the ice in his drink, and when he lowered the tumbler, he ran the wet bottom edge along the exposed flesh of your bodice, the strapless gown leaving a generous amount of flesh on display.

You gasped at the sensation, shivered with the coolness, moaned at the fire in his eyes. “Erik,” you pleaded.

The hand in his pocket came to rest on your waist. “Do you understand, darling, how crazy it makes me to know they touched you, looked at you, coveted what is _mine_?”

Fists clenching above your head, you whimpered when his glass continued to draw cool lines of moisture over your skin. “It was just a job. It didn’t mean anything.”

The glass shattered when he threw it across the room. “It meant _everything_ to me!” he snarled, mouth coming down to ravage your throat, the slight stubble on his jaw abrading your flesh in such a way as to be a counterpoint to the sucking heat of his lips as he marked you, over and over.

Crying out, heat and wet pooling between your legs, you arched and moaned into the hardness of his frame, hands locked above you, unable to escape.

His big hands were suddenly dragging down the top of your dress, breasts falling free for his wild mouth. Nipping, licking, sucking lips and frantic hands, gripping and squeezing, almost punishing with his pressure, just the correct side of pain. Even at the height of his anger, he’d never hurt you, but oh the pleasure he could give when he was fixated and raging.

Another heady moan escaped your lips when his mouth and tongue went to work on your nipple. He’d palmed the one breast, but the other was at the mercy of his wicked lips. A soft near growl left him as he sank to his knees, rucking your dress up around your waist to find the tiny pair of underwear you’d put on.

“Tsk,” he scoffed, glaring up at you. “This is what you wore all night? What all those men kept getting close to? What they’d hoped to see?” He tore them from you, both hands simply snapping them apart.

“Erik!” you cried out, the lace leaving a sharp burn on your hip.

He kissed the reddening mark gently, apologetically, before letting his lips wander over your hip bone, along the length of your thigh to nudge his nose against the curls between your legs. “So pretty,” he murmured, stroking your thighs, “such a nice pussy.”

Your head fell back with the first swipe of seeking tongue, pressing up and finding your bundle of nerves with an accuracy you’d long come to expect.

Relentless in his torment, he spread you open, fingers and tongue working, playing, driving you up only to taper off, just to take you up again.

Your legs shook with the strain, thighs quivering, breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath only to have those wicked fingers, slick with the arousal which coated your thighs, slide back over your folds and delved deep, thrusting to the rhythm of his mouth. The pleasure was building again, twisting, coiling, growing into a wicked sharp ache you were desperate to see released only to be denied. “Erik!” you screamed when the circling tongue pulled away, and those devil hands stopped their thrusting.

“Who do you belong to?”

Panting, chin falling to your chest, arms aching with the strain of holding you up, you peered down at him, the man on his knees, chin wet and glistening. He should have looked subservient down there, but he still retained the lord of the manor appearance, the powerful god, the master of all he owned, even on his knees. His fingers twitched, curled, stroked the spot inside you where it gave you the most pleasure.

Face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, hair curling at your temples and sticking to your nape, you couldn’t help but stare at just how beautiful he was.

“Tell me, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh, never looking away from your eyes. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

His thumb slid over your clit, circled gently. “Who?”

“You… Magneto.”

Approval coated his features and made him smile. “Good girl.” His fingers slid out, thrust back in, dragged over your sweet spot as his lips closed over you and tugged.

A scream rent the air as you came hard and your knees gave out.

His hand slammed against your waist to steady you, his strength far greater than most people knew as he held you up, keeping you from dragging your arms from their sockets as he drew his fingers from your core and pressed his mouth to you. The feel of his tongue sliding up, drinking from you, sent a second round of pulsing quakes through your body.

Getting to his feet, all grace and flowing lines, he appeared as the cat who’d eaten the canary, face smug as he tore the buckle of his belt open with one hand, dragged down his zipper and let his pants fall. His thick and heavy erection fell against your thigh, and you shivered, moaned, knowing how good it would feel, how it would stretch you and push you to the very edge of your tolerance.

“Please,” you moaned, looking to him through half shuddered lids, body replete yet still aching for him.

His fingers undid the buttons on his shirt, leaving it hanging open, showing you the defined chest and abs you longed to touch. “Say my name,” he demanded, dragging your thigh up, not bothering to discard his shirt or jacket, simply getting the fabric out of his way.

“Erik,” you moaned.

His hand connected sharply with the cheek of your ass. “Say it!”

The other thigh was dragged up, hooked at his hip as he jerked you up the post, taking the pressure from your shoulders. “Magneto!” you shrieked when he thrust into you without pause, sinking straight to the hilt in one go, grinding his hips into yours and setting a hard pace.

A grunt left him when your body clenched at the intrusion, but he didn’t slow, fucking into you hard and fast, taking you to the edge in nothing more than a dozen strokes. “Who do you belong to?” he snarled in your face, lips so close but so far.

“You, Magneto. Only you,” you moaned, digging your heels into his flexing ass and dragging him closer.

The grip on your buttocks tightened as he leaned his weight fully against you, shortening his strokes into little more than a flex of muscle that drove him against your walls and had you seeing stars. “Say it!”

“Magneto.”

The metal around your wrists came free, and you sank your hands into his hair, ignoring the numbness as you dragged his head back and ravaged his mouth.

The punishing pace never slowed, the pressure of his body against you feeling like he was trying to meld the two you together, get as close as possible, form two opposing metals into one. Ripping your mouth away to breath, you were unsurprised when his fell to your throat, bit gently into your shoulder, holding on as moans became grunts and finally cries of bliss when the coil inside you snapped, and the fires of pleasure seared through your body, and your walls clenched down around him.

“Fuck!” he snarled, forcing his head back to look at you. “Say it, goddammit!”

“Magneto,” you moaned, loving the slam of his out of control hips. “I love you.”

A sound of triumph roared from him as he thrust hard a final time and emptied himself out inside you.

Panting, gasping really, he slowly collapsed, taking you with him, till he was sitting on his knees, still buried inside you, with your back pressed to the pillar.

A quiet snicker had him lifting his head from your shoulder to peer at you curiously. “What?”

“If this is how you get on missions like these, we should do them more often,” you teased.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Minx,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around you so he could turn away from the pillar and lay you back on the floor beneath him. A roll of his hips made you gasp. “Who said I was done with you yet, anyway?”

Your legs clamped around his waist. “Say it.”

His brow arched cheekily. “Say what?”

Wind whistled through the room, and you disappeared from beneath him, causing him to fall rather unpleasantly to the floor. Rematerializing beside his groaning form, you pulled up your bodice and down your skirt. “Say it, Erik.”

“You’re a horrible woman. That was incredibly mean,” he growled, turning his head to glare at you.

“Say it, or sleep on the couch,” you threatened, hands on your hips.

“I love you, too, you Wind Witch! Now, get back here and make it up to me!” he growled.

Smirking, you shook your head. “You’ll have to catch me first.” Turning, you ran down the hallway, laughing the whole way.

“Witch!” he barked, dragging his pants up and throwing his hand out. Your yelp and undignified swearing when he pinned you against the wall of the bedroom made him laugh. “Caught you, darling.”

He had no plans of letting you go… ever.

-The End-


End file.
